Talking Walls
by Examun
Summary: Onepiece. A girl we don't know speaks out. Short enough. Disclaimer: Don’t own HP. Duh.


The Walls are talking to me again.  
  
Just so you know, I don't make a regular habit of talking to walls. In fact, I don't talk to inanimate objects at all, not even when I was a child with dolls and animals and figurines. My parents have a great appreciation for silence, something I've inherited.  
  
Maybe that's why the Walls talk to me, because I listen to silence.  
  
I think the house might be haunted, although I'm not stupid enough to come out and say that I believe in ghosts. But it's either believe in ghosts or believe that I'm losing my mind. I'd think I'd choose the former, wouldn't you?  
  
I never liked this house much anyway. It's old, at least a century and we moved in last year. It belonged to a friend of my father's who had kept it for tax purposes until he lost it all in the stock market. Dad bought it from him so he wouldn't have to go bankrupt. How sweet.  
  
You'll have to excuse my cynicism; I'm not always this way. Well, I guess I actually am, but the fact walls are talking to me doesn't exactly improve my mood. My mother complains I should be more outgoing, especially with our new neighbors. Well sorry mum, I'm much too busy listening to what the boards next to my bed are talking about.  
  
Half the time it's about when I'm about to fall asleep. Then I hear voices mumbling, then as I try to ignore them, they start becoming louder and more distinct. It's the voice of two men and a woman. They're talking quietly, but that's not for long. As I pull the pillow over my head, another voice comes in, that of a young man, about my age. He begins talking, and the other voices keep interrupting him, scoffing him off. Then he begins the same monologue. One I can't hear, but only sense. As he goes on and on, his voice becomes more and more angry. When he stops, there's a pause and a short yell, then the woman gives a bloodcurdling scream. As I pushed the pillow harder to my ears, there's screaming, yelling and crying that only I can hear. One voice stops, then another, until finally one man whispers something and there's the cold harsh laugh of the boy. And just as I start to cry, the boy screams two strange words, and the man's voice gives a final yell. The boy just continues to laugh, and I start crying and crying.  
  
One good thing about this godforsaken town is that the village doctor doesn't seem to ask why I need such strong sleeping pills.  
  
The other half is when I'm waking up in the mornings. I always wake up by myself without an alarm, probably because of those damn talking walls.  
  
I wake up slowly and lay in bed lazily thinking to myself, my mind in another world. Then I hear two voices, both male. One is whimpering and weak. Even I can hear what a worthless whining fool he is. The other is strong and hoarse, sounding strangely familiar and very dark. They talk forever and ever, and although I can't hear their words, I know they're plotting something. I'm about to get up, when another voice comes in. A man, older. Then the dark voice begins to question the new one. Then, suddenly, the dark voice begins to laugh and I hear a long, snake-like hiss. There's a long, terrible scream and I jump out of bed just as the voices end abruptly.  
  
Time for the strongest cup of coffee you've ever tasted.  
  
I know this house is haunted. My younger brother's heard rumors in the village. There was a family living here that was murder and a missing man connected with it.  
  
I don't know who died, and I don't care. I just want the voices to stop. I didn't ask for to talk to any dead people, thank you. Is it my fault my parents decided to live in this damn little village? The name itself seems cursed. Little Hangington. What the hell kind of name is that?  
  
Strange things always seem to happen here. Cemetery graves were disturbed ten years ago and no one knows how. Strange people show up and stare at my house and disappear before we can get a good look at them. Children see ghosts. A man disappeared and no one cares. My brother's getting letters from some Scottish school he never applied for and did I mention that the WALLS ARE TALKING TO ME?!?!?!?!?  
  
Sorry, it's just...  
  
Please, just make the voices stop... 


End file.
